


Good Rules

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [18]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 06:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14611080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: Tony doesn’t have a poker face.





	Good Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: The real struggle here is not to roll my eyes at people when they talk. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

Tony doesn’t have a poker face. He never has. He’s never had to, honestly; when he goes looking for a good time in Vegas or Monte Carlo, gambling’s not the first vice on his mind, ok, and having a creepy stillwater mask when someone’s sucking your dick is never a plus.

It’s always been to his benefit to have whatever he’s feeling play out in his expression, no filter. He’s always thought of it as part of his charm, honestly, that people never had to guess what he was thinking if they got close enough to him because it was all right there in 3D Technicolor. It makes him terrible at board meetings, that was true; he was never any good at bullshitting shareholders or pretending to nod at some investment banker’s wank, and everybody around that big table in New York knew it. It was part of the appeal of said boring ass meetings, he figures--let’s see how long it takes for the impetuous kid to quit playing polite, how long he’ll sit there being good before he gives up some epic, epic face.

But the first person in his life who’s ever used that trait to his tactical advantage is goddamn Bucky Barnes.

They’ll be at dinner, someplace nice, someplace where the sommelier has a sommelier. The whole team will be there for an after-action review--Steve, his EVP, and Nat, his CFO, and Clint from marketing, and the big blond guy from HR, Thor, and Barnes will sit right across from him and sip his wine in some sexy way or make love to his salad fork or just fucking bite his lip and Tony knows, he  _ knows _ that the  _ I want to fuck you _ is all over his face like strawberry sauce on a cheesecake and all he can do is pray that nobody notices.

Who Tony fucks is his business. Usually. Except technically, he and Bucky aren’t supposed to be sleeping together because technically, Barnes is his subordinate and there are rules against those things for a reason. Good rules. Rules that Tony remembers reading and approving a couple of years ago when Thor was updating the employee handbook and it’d all seemed so logical then. So sensible. So such a good way of avoiding a lawsuit or a harassment claim.

But then, oh then, Nat had made an honest woman out of Pep and they’d had a baby straight away and Pep had decided she preferred Sesame Street and mashed carrots to babysitting Tony all day, which ok, fair, but that meant he’d needed a new assistant, somebody to walk in Pep’s inestimable stilettos and lo and behold, James Barnes had walked into his life, not in heels but in these butter-soft brown boots that slid up under his trousers and one look at those blue eyes and that too-long hair and the total lack of intimidation on the guy’s gorgeous face and Tony was fantastically screwed.


End file.
